


Untitled

by lyryk (s_k)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-19
Updated: 2011-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 01:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_k/pseuds/lyryk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: First kiss after KKBB</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

Jack runs a fingertip along the spines of the few CDs perched on a corner of Ianto’s bookshelf. Radiohead, Pink Floyd, Dream Theatre, Santana, Janis Joplin, Led Zeppelin (he wrinkles his nose at that one), Blue Oyster Cult, even a bit of Bach thrown in. He picks Joplin and presses a button on the CD player. The tray slides out obligingly, the small display lighting up and throwing a golden glow on his fingers. 

‘Would’ve figured you were more of a Santana man,’ Ianto says from behind him.

‘Nah, Carlos is a screamer. You wouldn’t know it though, would you.’ Jack sets his grin in place before turning around, just in time to catch the look of amused scepticism on Ianto’s face.

‘I think your ex was coming on to me,’ Ianto says casually, unexpectedly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

Jack laughs, the sound seeming to echo somewhere in the hollows inside him. ‘He won’t be bothering us again. Unless you want him to.’ He catches Ianto’s eye and winks.

Ianto steps a little closer. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you.’

‘You and him?’ A very vivid mental image flashes through Jack’s mind. He reaches out to trace the shape of the small red Reebok logo embroidered into the front of Ianto’s black T-shirt. ‘Would _you_ like it?’

‘Possibly,’ Ianto says, expressionless, hands still in his pockets. ‘I missed you.’ The non-sequitur hangs in the air between them for a moment.

There’s a crash from the kitchen, a bark of laughter from Owen, a shriek from Tosh. ‘Sorry, sorry!’ Gwen calls out, laughing. ‘Nothing broken!’ Ianto looks a little surprised at the sounds, as though he isn’t used to hearing both music _and_ laughter in his flat. 

‘Well, _they_ seem to be having—’ he begins. Jack cuts him off, grabbing Ianto’s face between both his hands and crushing their lips together. Ianto responds instantly, and at first it’s all tongues and teeth and frantically grasping hands as they grapple with each other. Ianto pushes him up against the bookshelf, fisting his hands in Jack’s shirt and pinning him in place, kissing him fiercely, their mouths wet and hot and desperate against each other’s. 

‘The others,’ Ianto warns eventually, pulling back.

‘Don’t care,’ Jack says mindlessly, reaching for him again. ‘Not like they haven’t seen us kiss before.’

Ianto’s expression shutters for a moment, making Jack wonder if he shouldn’t have brought that up. But then Ianto leans in to kiss Jack again, and it’s slower this time, and Ianto’s fingers are in Jack’s hair, stroking, caressing, and the steady undercurrent of desire is laced with something sweeter, more affectionate.

‘I missed you too,’ Jack says, and traces Ianto’s smile with the tips of his fingers.


End file.
